


Everything A Bad Wolf Could Want

by Ghanima_Starkiller



Series: Reimagining Fairy Tales [5]
Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Rotkäppchen | Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghanima_Starkiller/pseuds/Ghanima_Starkiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The true, dirty truth of what happened between not-so-innocent Red and her Wolfie in that cottage....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything A Bad Wolf Could Want

She’s a sweet, plump thing with rosy cheeks and, he can’t help but notice, an abundance of bosom. She’s in the blossom of her young womanhood, still yet too young and naïve to understand the implications of displaying such attributes, that they made the mouths of big bad wolves such as himself water. When she strays from the path into the wild strawberry patch, she doesn’t take enough care; instead of kneeling, she bends over, her short gingham skirt riding up the backs of her thighs and exposing the frilly bottom of her bloomers, her round backside snuggled within.

He could take her then and there if he wanted, sneak up behind her, grasp her by the hips and slide that big ol’ cock of his, now hard and thick as a stump, between those creamy thighs of hers. But he’s patient: he talks to her, flirts, finds out where she’s going. She’s talkative, friendly and open, with bright, wide eyes and a slightly vacant smile. She shows him the goodies she has for her grandma in her basket; he’s more interested in the goodies she has in stowed in her clothing. Her fingers are still sticky and red with strawberry juice; he wants to lick it off of every inch of her.

When she pauses to pick some wildflowers at his instigation, he runs on ahead to where she told him her grandma’s house is secluded away under the boughs of the evergreen forest. Grandma’s a batty old fart; Big Bad’s no genius but it’s easy for even him to get rid of her quickly. And then all he has to do is wait, his toes curling in anticipation under the covers of Granny’s four poster. And then it’s, “My, what big arms you have, grandma.”

‘The better to hold you down with,’ thinks he.

And, “My, what big legs.”

‘The better to pump myself into you,’ considers he.

Also, “My, what big ears you have!”

‘The better to hear your screams as I possess you with,’ gloats he.

And so continues the questioning in spite of his trite, spoken replies, “My, what big eyes, grandmother!”

‘The better to see your body with,’ chuckles he to himself, his cock growing ever harder beneath the blanket as the charade continues.

“And, my, oh my, grandmother!” she exclaims at last. “What a very large and very wet mouth you have!” He nearly howls as he springs from beneath the covers and catches her up. She shrieks in surprise, dropping her basket of goodies as she feels his large clawed hands, his paws, grasping at her clothing.

“All the better to eat you all up with,” he answers finally honestly as he throws her onto the bed on her stomach, her knees at the very edge as he takes hold of her calves and spreads her open to him, ripping those little white panties off. She’s all pink and juicy inside, just like a wild strawberry, and his tongue is long and rough as it penetrates those soft folds of her flesh. She’s salty-sweet as he reaches deep inside her silken walls, lapping them in lengthy, hungry strokes. She makes the most delightful, most adorable noises, squeaks and yelps, low sobbing wails and tiny, hitched moans. She squirms and jiggles, waggling her rump, his muzzle nuzzling into her soft, dewy cleft as he continues to gobble her up greedily.

Clawing at the sheets with her red painted fingernails, he feels her muscles tighten around his raiding tongue as she squeals and thrashes, wriggling like a kitten as she reaches her glorious pinnacle; with a wave of undulating smooth and slick skin, riding the release of her clenching flesh she floods his mouth with a rewarding deluge of her steamy nectar.

His prick is so hard it nearly stand straight up against his coarsely haired, flat and brawny stomach; it’s throbbing with blood, swollen to its maximum extent and so tender that the softest of drafts makes him grunt with reckless need. Pulling her to her hands and knees, her backside against his furred groin, he enters her with one mighty and abandoned thrust. The penetration of his pounding cock rips away the trembling, fragile barrier of her virginity; he feels the warm, wet pooling of blood in the secret places he’s ravishing.

The sting is momentary, she learns swiftly, compared to the feel of him moving deep inside of her. At first he holds her hips, his sharp, dangerous claws digging into the soft, yielding flesh; he’s guiding her, or more like he’s holding her in place for his ravenous assault, pulling toward him when he thrust forward so he could burrow as deeply within her as possible. But then he’s climbing onto the bed between her legs, bracing his taut body above hers, his paw-like hands bearing down on her shoulders, pinning her to the soft down mattress.

He throws his shaggy head back and bays like he’s singing to the full moon when his moment arrives, and she’s gasping, trying to pull breath into her lungs against the thrilling pounding of her heart, crying out in the throes of her ecstasy. Her silken sheath constricts and squeezes him, sucking him deep into her belly and clasping, enfolding him there. She milks the seed from him, wringing it from his cock as he spills again and again into her tight confines.

As she lays in a blissful daze on the bed beside him, he lifts his leg and lowers his head, bathing himself with his tongue, laving its rough surface against his belly and thighs, and then over the once more growing length of his manhood, tasting and savoring the flavor of their commingled rapture. There was her tangy taste of wild strawberries on his own tangy flesh, her cream all pink and glossy on him. He looks up to see her watching the progression of his avid tongue.

“My, Mr. Big Bad Wolf,” she says, her voice husky, eager and curious, “what a very big—”


End file.
